


Dandelion Rings

by withlovegilbert (rebelarkey)



Series: A soft heart and a sharp pen [1]
Category: Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: A Walk to Remember inspired, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Feels, Hurt/Comfort, Near Death Experiences, Tissue Warning, death bed marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:47:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23833336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebelarkey/pseuds/withlovegilbert
Summary: Now I wake up in the night and watch you breathe~Paper Rings--Gilbert asks Anne to marry him. Now.
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley
Series: A soft heart and a sharp pen [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1717303
Comments: 10
Kudos: 144





	Dandelion Rings

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written to prove that i could turn a happy song into an angst fest. But I fixed the ending so.... hea

_Now I wake up in the night and watch you breathe_

_Kiss me once cause you know I had a long night_   
_Kiss me twice cause it's gonna be alright_   
_Three times cause I've waited my whole life_

_I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings_   
_Darling, you're the one I want_

Gilbert coughed, the handkerchief pressed to his mouth coming away bloody. Anne dabbed his sweaty forehead with a cool cloth, eyes trained on the doctor across from her. 

“He’s going to be alright, isn’t he?” Anne half begged, half asked. Dr. Meage, the new physician from Carmody, frowned, and placed his stethoscope in his black doctor’s bag, motioning with his head towards the door. 

Abandoning her cloth, she joined him in the doorway. 

“I’m afraid it’s bad, my dear. He’s strong though, that lad of yours. If he makes it through the night... Well it’s best to say your goodbyes now, my dear. Before it’s too late.” 

He patted her shoulder in what was supposed to be comfort, but felt like the shadow hand of death coming to claim her dearest love. 

Barely noting the doctor’s leaving, Anne sunk down into her chair, hand pressed over her mouth. 

“No,” she murmured, over and over. “No, no no.” The world moved back and forth, seesawing with her shaking head. 

Gilbert shifted next to her, trying to catch her gaze. 

“Anne,” he gasped, interrupted by a fit of coughing, “Marry me.” 

It took her a second to understand. “What?” She half laughed, half breathed.

“Marry me, now.” 

“No, you’re going to get through this. You’ll get better and you’ll be ready for our wedding in a month. This is just a... a setback. It’s just...”

“Anne... Anne. We...both... know... i... won’t... make... it. Better to.. do it... now. Just in case.”

“Gilbert.” She stopped, turning to window as a few tears slipped down her cheeks. She didn’t want him to see her pain at his request. Ever since he’d proposed, she’d had visions of her wedding in the old Blythe Orchard, amid the blossoms and the birds. A gathering of their family and friends. Laughter. A new life. 

Not grief and death. 

She loved him, she did. And if this was to be his final request, then how could she refuse?

“Yes, I’ll do it.” She turned back to him. “I’ll marry you now. But we don’t have rings.”

Gilbert attempted a smile, a ghoulish grimace. “I’ll marry you... with paper rings... if I have--” The handkerchief gained more blood. 

Anne nodded, and went to leave. “Wait, Anne. I gotta tell you... going from rivals to friends to this...has been the best moments of my life."

" Oh Gilbert." Anne returned to his side, knelt, and kissed his hand once, twice, and a third time before rising. She walked backwards holding onto his hand until the last possible second. 

Anne made her way downstairs. Hazel bustled around the kitchen, with Bash, Elijah and Delphine clustered around the table. Bash rose at Anne’s appearance. 

“I need you to go for the minister, Bash.”

Hazel looked at her sharply. “He’s that close to death to need his last rites?” She questioned.

“No.” Anne inhaled, steadying herself, holding back her emotions. “No, I need him to perform a wedding.” 

The entire room froze. Delly was the first to move, going to Anne. In a surprising act of solmenity, Delphine embraced Anne at her knees. “Auntie Annie is going to marry Uncle Gilby?”

“Yes,” Anne choked out a laugh. “Yes she is. As soon as your papa can grab the minister.” Anne directed the last of her sentence to the person in question. 

The room unfroze. 

“Anne are you sure--”

“Yes, Bash. I”m sure.” She snapped. “Please. Just do it.” 

Elijah had grabbed his coat. “I’ll run get the minister.” And the door banged shut behind him. 

Bash sighed, but tossed aside his napkin. “Then I’ll fetch Marilla. She’ll be wanting to be here for this.” 

Anne bit her lip, then decided it was her wedding day too. “Could you swing by Orchard Slope too?” She requested in a rush. “Diana.” Was her simple explanation. Bash just nodded and followed Elijah out the door. 

“Well, that leaves me to feed the masses,” Hazel declared. “And to keep track of this little one.”

“But why can’t I see Uncle Gilby?” Delphine asked. Anne slipped out the back door before she heard Hazel’s reply. She had had an idea, which hopefully would work better than Gilbert’s. 

A few dandelions had cropped up in the grass, and she found the longest ones, plucking them and stripping them of their seeds. 

As she wound them into circles, Anne was reminded of her vows to Diana, always with a dandelion. It seemed fitting, in that same way, she was doing a similar vow with Gilbert, also using a dandelion. Two different vows, but both with the same heartfelt dedication and solemnity of fealty. 

Avoiding the kitchen, she returned to Gilbert’s room, thankful that as Gilbert’s betrothed, she could sit at his bedside and only get a few twitters of impropriety from the strongest of sticklers. Upon entering, she’d found him asleep. Anne quietly wrung out the cloth in the washbowl, and reapplied it to his forehead. Taking up her now familiar position, Anne opened the book and began where she’d left off when Dr Meage had arrived. 

She’d only read one chapter of Jane Eyre before the carriages started arriving. Marilla arrived first, barely having only stepped down when the minister’s buggy pulled up. 

Anne, reluctantly because her love needed all the rest he could get, shook Gilbert awake. “Gil, they’re here.” 

He roused blearily, confused. When he remembered, he nodded and attempted to sit up. With Anne’s help he was half reclining when the minister entered, followed by Marilla and Bash, Delphine’s hand clutched in his. Hazel and Elijah crowded in the doorway. There was no sign of Diana. 

Anne looked at Bash hopefully, but he just shrugged. Anne’s spirits sunk even lower. 

Marilla came over and gave Anne a hug, not saying anything with her voice, but her gaze communicated her acceptance. Marilla understood that this was what Anne needed to do. With her maternal guardian behind her and her future husband’s hand clasped tightly in hers she was ready. 

The minister looked back and forth between Gilbert and Anne, consternation marking his brow. “Are you two sure you want to get married now?” 

Gilbert nodded and Anne answered “Yes.”

"Have you the rings?" Anne handed him the two stem rings. He eyed them skeptically.

"They’re not shiny, but they'll do just fine for us, " Anne smiled, feeling tears course down her cheeks.

The minister nodded. Just as he took a breath to start, pounding footsteps were heard coming up the stairs. 

“I’m here! I’m here, i’m here, I’m--” Diana rushed into the room, panting, Elijah barely moving out of the way to avoid collision. The minister glared at her, but Anne almost wept in joy. Letting go of Gilbert’s hand, she embraced her longest friend. 

“Thank you,” Anne whispered in her ear. 

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. I”m so sorry I’m late.” Diana murmured back, releasing Anne to stand next to Marilla. 

The minister cleared his throat, bringing all their attention back to him. “Are all gathered here that we wish to witness this wedding? Good. Now... Do you, Anne Shirley Cuthbert, take Gilbert Blythe to be your lawfully wedding husband, to have and to hold, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, as long as you both shall live?” 

Anne swallowed the lump in her throat, meeting Gilbert's hazel eyes. “I do.”

The minister continued. “And do you, Gilbert Blythe, take Anne Shirley-Cuthbert as your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, as long as you both shall live?”

Gilbert squeezed her hand before a coughing fit interrupted his words. Anne quickly handed him the bloody cloth, helping him to lean forward. As the fit subsided, Gilbert looked up at the minister. 

“I...do...”

“Good. Please sign the book.”

As he handed the open book to Anne, he patted his pockets. “Apparently, I forgot a pen in my haste.” 

“That’s alright, I have one right here.” And Anne produced the Pen of Possibility, a instrument that had affected the greatest moments in her life. With it, she’d sent that first letter to Gilbert when he was away at sea. He’d borrowed it and with it wrote her a letter than she’d proceeded to rip up, finding out later just what a treasure she’d discarded. The countless love letters of the years her pen could contest to. What a fitting role it now played, to be used to seal their bond in life. 

Anne uncapped it, and signed her name, flashing back to that time she wrote her name in the family bible, officially becoming a Cuthbert. Now, she was becoming a Blythe. 

Anne Shirley-Cuthbert Blythe. 

She transferred the book to Gilbert’s lap, helping him to sign his shaking scrawl in the record. That finished, she handed it back to the minister. He glanced at the signatures, then nodded. 

“Then before God and Man i pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.” 

Anne leaned down, but Gilbert moved his head at the last second, her kissing his cheek instead. 

“I don’t want to get you sick,” He whispered. 

“I don’t care.” And she kissed him. They’d had many different kisses over the years, some with fire and passion, others soft and short. This one was filled with bittersweetness of the moment, of a long goodbye. 

It was broken abruptly with Gilbert tearing away, heaving for air, hacking in gasps. 

Anne embraced her loved ones, seeing them to the door. 

“Have hope.” Diana whispered.

“Stay strong. He’ll need you.” Marilla counseled. 

“May God be with you.” The Minister promised. 

Anne turned back to Gilbert to see her niece giving her stuffed bunny to Gilbert.

“She always makes me feel better when I’m sick, so I want you to have her, so she’ll make you all better.” Delly nodded decidedly, then went to embrace Gilbert. 

“Woah there,” Bash stopped her. “We don’t want you to get sick.”

“But Anne hugged Gilby. Why can’t I?”

Bash picked Delly up and put her on his hip. “Because Anne is a grownup who makes her own decisions and knows the risks. You are young and can easily catch it. Now, it’s late and it’s bedtime for you.” 

Anne caught Bash’s eye and there existed a silent communication. _Please take care of him. I will._

She shut the door behind them, then leaned her head against the door. _I’m a married woman,_ she thought, quickly followed by _tonight’s my wedding night._

Over the years, Anne had pieced together, for the most part, what happened between a man and a woman after the vows were said. She knew the mechanics, and some of the feelings when they’d gotten too passionate with their kissing. She’d dreamed of learning all the ways she’d become a wife when they were married. Her wedding night. 

The dream died with one glance at Gilbert. 

He’d sunk down into his pillows, curled towards the window, his face ashen and pale. He’d exerted too much energy, and his breathing labored, harsh pants, and wheezing inhales. 

He was dying and they all knew it. 

Anne mentally folded up her dreams and expectations, putting them high in a closet to be forgotten. There was no place for them now, not in light of stark reality; Anne would be a widow by morning. 

With pangs of disappointment, Anne unbuttoned her dress, letting it fall to the floor. Next came her corset cover, and her petticoat. She toed off her boots while reaching behind her, in a move down by muscle memory and habit from the years and loosened her corset, working up and down until it slid comfortably down her hips a little. The busk unlatched, she gathered up her clothes and laid them in the chair, before sitting on the bed and sliding down her stockings. 

“I should... be doing... that..” Came the weak voice of her beloved. 

She smiled sadly. “I know. Perhaps another time.” Both of them knew she lied. 

In just her shift, as she had no nightgown, she climbed in the bed, settling her weight next to his. He was hot; already she could feel the waves coming off him. She just pulled him to her tighter. 

Resting his head against her chest, she played with his curly hair. “Rest now, my love. I’m right here. I have you and I’m not letting go.” 

Soon she heard his breathing steady, with that frightening rattle. She slipped out of bed, the heat of him finally too much. Settling in her chair, his hand once again in hers, she read to him. 

\---

Sometime in the night she’d fallen asleep. The lamp had burned all the oil and flickered out. The gray dawn light filtered through the window. 

“Gil, wake up. Look at the sun!” 

He didn’t wake. 

Anne watched the sun rise by herself, tears she didn't’ know she had slipping down, down into her shift. 

Her hear beat matched the slow and rattling breaths of her husband, Anne praying with each one it wasn’t the last. 

Eventually she moved back to the chair, wrapped in Gilbert's robe, his hand in hers. It was such a magnificent morning, no mist clouding the sun, belying the grave scene in the room.

A careful knock sounded, Bash peering around the door. Delphine’s small hand grasped in her father's.

"Uncle Gilby?" She asked.

"Just sleeping, Junebug. " Anne reassured her, communicating with her eyes to the girl's father. Bash nodded in understanding and took the sweet girl with him.

Anne took to pacing after a minute, not able to sit still after the night spent in the chair. But she daren’t leave him. She wanted to be there with him at the last, like she hadn’t been for Matthew’s. 

Everything she loved kept being taken away from her. First Matthew, now Gilbert. Eventually, Marilla would follow in their footsteps, and Diana would leave Anne a married woman. 

Anne would die an old maid. 

No. An old _widow._

The dried dandelion ring on her finger proclaimed the truthfulness to the act. She’d married him. She was his and he was hers. And he’d lived through the night. 

_He lived through the night._

Her knees gave out and she collapsed to the floor for the relief. Crawling until she could lean against the bed, Anne rested her head back against the mattress. A small laugh erupted, delirious and manic. _He might live yet._

“Anne?” It was Bash at the door again, sans Delphine. Anne turned so she could see him over Gilbert’s form. “Are you hungry? Breakfast?”

Her stomach made itself known then, with the ache of nausea. Food would be good. 

“Yes, I’ll be down in a minute.” 

“Alright.” Still Bash lingered. 

Anne knew why and was quick to reassure him. “He’s still breathing. Fevered, and with that rattle in his chest. But alive.” 

Bash nodded his thanks and retreated. Anne followed him down after donning her clothes, wrinkled and crumpled from sitting on the chair. She joined the Lacroix family downstairs, realizing that she was the representative of the Blythe part. 

She could only manage a few bites of toast and jam, washing down an egg with milk, before she headed to go upstairs. She was stopped by Bash’s grip halfway up the stairs. 

“How about you catch some breeze, Queen Anne.”

“But--”

“I’ll sit with him. Anne you need a break. We both know you’re strong, and you’ve had to be strong this whole time for him, to fight for him while battling your own doubts. We’re through the worst now, we hope, so you need to take time for yourself. I’ll call you if anything... I’ll call you I promise.” 

Persuaded, Anne hugged Bash, and then stole the young child from her breakfast, determined to enjoy herself for a few stolen moments. Life was for the living; happiness waited for no one. She would have to seize it with both hands. 

Running through the orchard, Anne forgot her worries. It was her and nature and a little girl with dark eyes. Losing herself to her imagination, time slid like liquid, oozing through her fingers. A golden hour of fair maidens and queens, a court made of trees, and a child’s laughter. 

Anytime reality’s threatening presence loomed, Anne killed it with a glance, an archer with a bow and deadly aim. 

Hours passed and neither noticed. Farther away from the house they roamed, ending up in a meadow on the edge of the orchard, gazing at the sky, the purples and pinks of the sun encircling the sky. 

The purples and pinks of the _setting sun._

Reality could not be slayed this time. Sitting up, Anne reluctantly woke the sleeping princess, and together they made their way out of the magical land and back to bleak reality. 

The land of gold and pink faded to dismal grey and stark black. 

Reaching the end of the orchard, house in sight, Anne wanted to hold back a little longer. Draw her armor back into place before waging battle. For the sickroom was a battlefield against a ruthless foe, one that held her husband captive. She had to fight for both of them. 

Closing her eyes, blocking out all noise, she breathed in. 

“I had wondered where my wife had gone.” 

She startled, shrieking in surprise, in wonder. 

There, standing in front of her, arms braced against the fence, Bash three steps behind, was Gilbert Blythe. Still pale, still shaky, and still with a rattling cough, and, most importantly, _still alive._

She ran towards him, hugging him, but making sure she absorbed her own momentum as to not knock him off his feet. 

He hugged her back, peppering her neck and face with kisses. 

“Oh my love! You’re alive. You’re awake! You’re going to be alright.” Anne couldn’t help exclaiming. 

Gilbert just hugged her tighter to him. “I realized I had so much left to live for.” Reaching up, she ran her hand through his hair before tugging him down to kiss her. 

When their lips met, Anne felt something she’d never experienced before, something she’d only dreamed of. A feeling that she’d thought she’d had in the past with Green Gables, with Matthew, with Marilla, and with Diana. In hindsight, that emotion was a pale imitation of the real thing. For the first time ever, Anne experienced the joyous reunion of returning.

Homecoming.

Anne Shirley-Cuthbert Blythe was home.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trying a new thing. 
> 
> Liked this? Go check out similar works:  
> \-- [Be Still Young Heart](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1696243) by the_lazy_eye  
> \--[ The Cruelest Fate](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23376109/chapters/56011144) by aceofsparrows
> 
> Enjoy! Come find me on tumblr @withlovegilbert


End file.
